


Senior Discounts

by nymja



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Zuko is awkward around girls for his entire life, old people dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 02:37:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2411879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nymja/pseuds/nymja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Former Fire Lord Zuko treats Katara out to a night on the town after Jinora’s tattoo ceremony. Or: how Zuko is awkward with girls at any age.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Senior Discounts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ignitesthestars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignitesthestars/gifts), [starforged](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starforged/gifts).



> Katara was totally there okay.

It’s been a few years since he’s last seen her. And as Katara hugs her grandchildren (there’s _so many_ of them—at least four, which is already double what he remembers her having) across the reception room following Jinora’s tattoo ceremony, Zuko smooths his hand over his beard and readjusts his top knot for perhaps the fifth or sixth time.

“Hello Katara,” he sighs. “Hel _lo_ Katara.” Shakes his head, “Katara. **Katara.** Fancy seeing you here. Is this your first- no. No that’s not- achem. _Hi_ Katara-”

He brushes remnant scales off of his sleeve. Smokey has been molting recently. And he doesn’t want her to think he has. Dandruff, or something. Former Fire Lords are immune to such things. Or should be. He doesn’t have it.

Zuko clears his throat, “Lady Katara- Sifu Ka _taaaar_ a-“

What if she thinks his posture is terrible? He will admit, it’s been some time since he’s been to a formal tea ceremony, and no doubt his shoulders hunch forward a little-

He straightens his back. There’s a crack. He winces.

“You should have that looked at, you know,” comes a self-assured voice, and Zuko pivots to see-

“Kata-“ his back pinches, “-ang!”

The Southern Water Tribeswoman only stares as Zuko arches backwards, rubbing the small of his back. Before she chuckles, an eyebrow raising, “Zuko. Seems you haven’t been keeping up with the stretches I gave you.”

“Of course I have!” He blurts, before his cheeks flush with color and he stops writhing as fast as he can.

Katara smiles, the expression still the same as ever despite the lines in her face, “I was joking, you know.”

Zuko coughs, “Of course. I knew that. I was joking too.”

Her eyebrow has not gone down, “Very convincing.”

“Well. I _was_ the Fire Lord. We are known for our humor.”

Katara gives a dry laugh, before she wraps her arms around his shoulders in an embrace, “It is good to see you again.”

He brings his own around her waist, “You too, Katar-ack!”

From where her hands are on his back, Katara presses into his spine and he hears another loud, popping noise, “Better?”

His eyes widen in surprise, “Yes, actually.”

She steps back from him, “I suppose I don’t need to remind you that you know the best healer in the world.”

“I meant to visit last year-“ he blurts, “But. There were tax issues-“

“-and the cold bothers your arthritis,” Katara finishes with a gleam in her eyes, “You don’t need to make excuses for old friends.”

“Friends. Of course. Old ones. Just friends. Good friends. For a very long time…” He clears his throat into his hand, turning instead towards where Tenzin and Jinora arrive from the temple. They are immediately swarmed by the rest of Katara’s countless (four) grandchildren, and Zuko feels a smile crawl onto his face at the sight of the blue tattoos, “…You must be proud.”

“Very,” Katara agrees, folding her hands into the sleeves of her blue dress robes and smiling as she watches Ikki rub Jinora’s newly shaven head, “Jinora will make a fine Master.”

“...I wish Aang could see her,” Zuko whispers, mostly to himself before he realizes who he is talking to. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

“It’s alright, Zuko,” Katara’s smile remains in place, though there is a melancholy to it. Her eyes travel to Avatar Korra, who is being wheeled discretely out a side exit by her friend, “He _is_ here. In many, many ways.”

Zuko folds his hands into his sleeves as well. “You know, my uncle had an expression…” He frowns, trying to remember, “The acorn should fly from the branch before it forms a nest.”

Katara turns to face him, head tilted to the side, “Do acorns have nests?”

Zuko grins, “I’m sure one does. Somewhere.”

The pair of them laugh, and seeing joy on Katara’s face is what prompts his tongue to untie itself for a moment.

“Katara…”

“Yes?”

“Do you eat?”

Her snow-white eyebrows furrow, “…occasionally.”

He winces, “Would you. Like to eat.” He looks at the toes of his boots, “With me. Unless you have plans-“

Katara looks towards her children and grandchildren. Meelo and Ikki are taking turns pulling at Bumi’s beard and Kya and Tenzin are having a heated discussion about _something_ as her eldest granddaughter sneaks glances at the young Airbender with a roguish haircut. She smiles, and looks up at Zuko.

“A quiet dinner might be nice. If you pay.”

He blinks, then smiles, “Yes! …I can pay.”

\--

“That’s not how it happened!” Zuko protests, stopping his drink from the teacup mid-sip.

“Excuse me _,_ Mr. Former Fire Lord,” Katara says with a wizened smirk, “But I know I’m never going to forget the look on Sokka’s face when he walked into your rooms by mistake and saw Mai-“

He can feel steam practically shooting from the tops of his ears, and Zuko makes a strangled noise of protest before he quickly drains his cup.

Katara only shakes her head, before she twirls her hands and streams tea into the air, refilling both their cups, “He was silent for _days,_ Zuko. My brother. _Silent._ ”

“Well,” Zuko mutters into his oolong, “He should have knocked. Especially on embassy meetings!”

She laughs again, blue eyes bright and sharper than ever much to his chagrin. “I always wondered why he refused to go to another summit in the Fire Palace. Now I suppose I know.”

He joins her laugh with a more hesitant chuckle, and the two of them stare at their plates in a companionable silence. Dinner had been enjoyable—the pair reminiscing about old adventures and sharing mutual stories of their grandchildren (apparently, there had been _three_ of hers the last time he had visited. Zuko didn’t remember seeing Meelo as a baby, though he imagines that must be a good thing). Smiles came easier for him than they had in years, and, judging from the still-present grin on Katara’s, he assumed the experience was the same for her.

“We really should catch up more often,” Katara says thoughtfully, articulating Zuko’s unspoken thoughts, “It’s been too long.”

“It has,” he agrees, taking another drink. It’s chilled, and so he hovers his hands over both their cups until he sees steam rise from them. Katara tips her head in thanks before she drinks.

Zuko begins to pick at the hems of his robe, not sure how to begin, “Katara-“

“Zuko-“

His eyes widen once more, before he smiles, “You first.”

“You have rice in your beard.”

Zuko groans, patting it down and removing the offending grains, “I _just_ checked-“

“Don’t worry, it’s gone.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So.”

“So?” Katara patiently asks, “You were about to say something?”

He was. He was going to say something. Yes. Something.

What he comes out instead is not what he means, “Do you walk?”

Katara tries and fails to hide a grin, “Occasionally.”

He sighs, “With me. Would you like to? Walk, that is.”

Katara slowly shrugs her shoulders, “…The night’s still young.”

\--

“Fart-bending,” Zuko repeats dryly, as they walk the path along Republic City’s central park. It’s dark, but Zuko has been keeping a fire going in his free palm.

The other is busy being wiped up and down the side of his robe as he tries to make his next move.

Katara shakes her head, “I promise I had nothing to do with it. But yes. Apparently,” she tries to look stern, but Zuko sees the amusement in her eyes, “Meelo considers himself a prodigy at it.”

“I’m sure Tenzin’s ecstatic.”

“Of course. A very easy-going man, my Tenzin.”

“He’s a lot like you.”

She shrugs, “In some ways. He takes after Aang more.”

One. Two. Three. Zuko takes a deep breath, “Are you cold?”

Katara blinks, “Cold?”

“Yes. Your hand. It. It looks cold. I could warm it for you. If you want. With my hand. If it’s cold-“

“Zuko.”

“Yes?”

“Just ask to hold my hand.”

“…is it alright if I hold your hand, Katara.”

“Yes, Zuko. It is alright if you hold my hand.”

With her permission, he wipes his hand one more time on his robe, before he laces his fingers in between her own. He’s surprised that her hand is not cold at all, and that her grip is still strong but gently mindful of his own arthritis. That it’s soft.

“…I feel like a teenager again,” he admits.

Katara gives a gentle squeeze, “You _were_ a hit with the ladies.”

He almost staggers, “I was?”

“Of course. Remember that girl in the village when we stopped to help the refugees-“

“Su? She was delirious with fever-“

“My foot. She was trying to get you to play nurse-“

“Nurse? But I was the Fire Lord-“

Katara laughs, “Yes, she was pretty disappointed when you sent her to the infirmary.”

Zuko shakes his head, and as they continue walking, hand-in-hand, a thought occurs to him, “Did you ever-?” he clears his throat, and decides it’s an inappropriate question. That there’s too many years of history, of families, to consider what-ifs. To ask her if she ever, maybe, thought about him the same way he thought about her a very long time ago.

Katara must hear what was unasked, because she gives him a small, understanding smile, “Zuko?”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever heard of something called go-karts?”

He frowns, “Go…karts?”

She gives a grave nod, “Yes. Ikki suggested them to me. Apparently they’re a new game created by Future Industries…” her eyes glimmer again, that same mischievous look that more than occasionally made him uncomfortable in a way he wasn’t sure was good or bad, “And I have to admit I’m curious.”

“I. Are you-?”

She sighs, “Yes, Zuko. I’m asking you out on a date. I suppose wiles are unnecessary at this age.”

“No, I like your wiles. They’re…wiley…” Zuko clears his throat, and runs his thumb over her knuckles, “I think I’m in Republic City for a few more days- oh!” He extinguishes the flame in his free hand and pats the front of his robes, withdrawing a booklet of paper, “I think I have coupons…”

Katara throws back her head and laughs, causing Zuko’s cheeks to flush once more.

“What?”

“You’re so _old_ ,” she says in between gasps of breath.

“…do you want to use my coupons or not.”

“Would you feel better if we did?”

“Not anymore.”

Katara nudges his side with her elbow, “Don’t worry. I’ll pay for our next date.”

“Then this was-?”

She rolls her eyes, resting her cheek on his shoulder, “You’re hopeless.”

He doesn’t know why that word makes him smile, but it does. And Zuko lets go of her hand in order to place it in the crook of his elbow as they continue their walk.

\--

At the end of the night, he stammers and rubs the back of his neck and she waits until he is truly uncomfortable to kiss his cheek goodbye.

\--

The night after that, they do go-karts.

She wins.

He uses his coupons.


End file.
